“Wonderful information, do continue,” Ashlynn encouraged, completely riveted.
Throwing her hands up in the air, Bria countered, “Does it matter right now? I disappeared from home completely because of Zelman and now he doesn’t have the faintest idea of where I am. I can’t even write to let him know because trade has been halted.”
“She does have a point,” Riana observed. Partially in pity for the girl, partially because she wanted this conversation to stop before they asked her about her own relationship with Ash, Riana got hold of Bria’s elbow and drew her out. “I agree with Ashlynn, the fan does no’ suit what ye picked out. Mayhap something with more blue in it?”
“More blue? Really? But it’s mostly a cream white and gold dress. Then again, the blue would be a nice contrast…” Bria seemed grateful for the change in topic and willingly went along with Riana’s lead, talking far more than she normally did to keep the others from prying any further.
Riana wished her luck on that as it would only be temporary. Tonight, when everyone started to retire, her sisters would likely corner her again.
The next two weeks seemed to crawl by and yet at the same time, Riana felt that if she blinked, half the day would pass. They didn’t do anything extraordinary, simply worked on the same tasks day in and day out, trying to get things finished before they lost the nice fall weather and the first snow hit.
Really, the only thing remarkable was that a young baron and baroness, Skadi and Ingrid Covington, heeded Edvard’s invitation and came to talk. Edvard and Tierone spent many hours closeted with them talking, and even Argent was invited to sit in several times. Ashlynn kept them abreast of the progress the group made and it sounded promising. Both siblings had agreed to stay the full two weeks to see Edvard’s coronation ceremony before leaving.
Aside from that, Riana did bring it up to Edvard that they really had to come up with a name for their new settlement. Saying ‘the settlement, the settlement’ all of the time was getting old and it was no longer accurate. The place had grown to the size of a respectable town by now and there were more people moving in every day. After all, if they stayed in Estole, they were still on a very long waiting list to get a house. If they moved to the settlement, it was a shorter list and they could help with their own hands to further the matter along.
Edvard heard her out and agreed, “You’re right, we need to. Over dinner, we’ll come up with a name for it, and when the coronation ceremony is completed I’ll announce it officially.”
Pleased, she’d agreed, and privately started cataloguing a list of names she thought would be a good fit.
It didn’t take one night’s discussion around dinner, but a full week of them before they all agreed on a name: Ganforth. Edvard, being a man that liked surprises, swore them all to secrecy. Which meant, of course, that half the city knew by the next morning and were already using the name. As long as Edvard didn’t learn about this, that was fine, and Riana wasn’t about to be the one to tell him.
Tierone called them the night before the coronation to say that he wouldn’t be able to make the ceremony after all. Most of his people were down with some sort of nasty cold, and, while not deadly, it did seem to lay everyone out for a good two weeks before they started to recover. He himself wasn’t sick but most of his staff were, and rather than risk carrying the disease over into Estole, he chose to close down the borders until it passed.
Everyone was disappointed, of course, because this was meant to be a dual ceremony with both Tierone and Edvard. But Tierone observed that they could always do another one later, one for just him, and that way celebrate twice. It appeased the youngest member of the family (Gwen was always up for more parties) and so they made tentative plans for that.
The day of the coronation ceremony finally dawned, and they all got up early—the girls so they had time to do something with their hair, the men so they could actually use the mirror to shave without having to compete with the girls. Edvard, as part of the preparation for the ceremony, was not allowed to eat that morning and he left before noon to go and perform the necessary cleansing rituals. Technically, they were supposed to wait an hour before going over as well, but all of them were ready so they voted to go ahead and see if they could help set up anything. The priests were admitted novices when it came to ceremonies, after all. It wouldn’t hurt to double check that everything was in place before Ingrid and Skadi Covington joined them.
When they arrived at the temple, it was immaculately clean, with decorations ringing the door and interior. Ribbons were tied around the columns in front, vases lined the stairs, overflowing with colorful bouquets. Stepping inside, she saw that chairs had been added to the center of the room, which was good as she understood the ceremony took a full hour to complete. Ribbons draped along the ceiling here, too, vases found in different corners with flowers. The altar had one long banner with the Estole coat of arms. It looked nice enough but it didn’t quite match with Ashlynn’s descriptions. Or maybe things had been changed because the priests had not been able to lay hands on everything they wanted to?
Deciding not to say anything, she sat where Ash indicated, carefully keeping track of her skirt hem and making sure that it wasn’t getting in anyone’s way. The dark green dress had turned out to be rather pretty. Odds were she wouldn’t have many opportunities to wear it, but she’d like to keep it as pristine as she could.
Aside from the dress, she had a few—other—things to keep track of as well. She had to sit in a certain way to make sure that nothing pinched or, worse, clanged. After all, she was supposed to be here completely unarmed. It wouldn’t do to give the game away with a careless motion.
Riana was so preoccupied getting settled that she didn’t at first notice Ash’s distraction until it became unease. Then her head came up. “Ash?”
“Where are all of the priests?” Ash said slowly, eyes roving about the front of the room. “Shouldn’t they have one of them escorting us in?”
As if his words had conjured the man, Priest Graff popped out of the back hallway. He did a quick headcount, nodded in satisfaction, then made for the front door with a quick stride. Closing it firmly, he flashed them a quick smile and said, “Just a brief delay, everyone, bear with us.” As quickly as he had appeared he disappeared back into the hallway and out of sight.
Riana’s eyebrows climbed into her hairline. “Something has gone wrong, I take it.”
“Certainly looks that way,” Ash agreed, the frown on his face not faltering.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Broden stirred uneasily. There was this nagging sense of wrongness about the place and while he could not put his finger on it, it was there regardless.
Leaning against his shoulder, Ashlynn tilted her head up and whispered, “I realize the clothes are more formal than what you’re used to wearing, but stop fidgeting.”
“It no’ be that, lass,” he denied. Well, alright, it was partially that but not the main reason. “There be a strange feeling to the air I do no’ like. Does naught seem amiss to ye?”
She frowned then sat back and really looked around. “Now that you say it, it seems strange that all three priests are back there. There should be one up here preparing to officiate. And why aren’t the other lords here attending? I know Argent went ahead of us but I thought the rest were right behind us.”
That. That was what was bothering him. The room was too empty. There should be more people than were seated here. All of the provosts were in attendance, of course, but half the reason for the ceremony to happen now was to have the lords and lady of Iysh as witnesses to it.
And where was Edvard? He had gone ahead of them in order to perform some cleansing rite or another, but he was supposed to be ready by now. Right?
Broden could thank his survival instincts for being alive this long. He never doubted them. Sometimes his instincts were off, sometimes he looked a mite foolish, but he would rather be wrong than to not act and bear the consequences of it. So he
said to Ashlynn, “I think it best I go check on yon king. Ye—”
From the back of the temple there was an outraged and pained yell. Broden recognized the voice instantly. Edvard’s. He was on his feet and moving before the thought fully processed in his brain that this was a very cleverly disguised assassination attempt and nothing more.
Everyone else was on their feet at the same time but Ash was snapping out commands. “Everyone behind me and Riana! Ashlynn, Broden, go help Edvard!”
No one had come in armed, in fact they had specifically been told this was a sacred ceremony and to not bring weapons. Ashlynn and Ash were of course always in touch with their magic, they were never without a means to fight, but Riana was bare as a babe. He’d snuck one dagger in, under his coat, and he reached for it while praying that it would be enough to fight off assassins with.
“Da!”
He spun at the call and spotted two daggers in his daughter’s hands. She gave a feinted toss, making sure that he was watching, before throwing one in his direction in a controlled arc. He caught it handily and was grateful even if it was a little on the small side. Now where had she gotten these? He highly doubted assassins would have left them just lying about. Shaking his head, he put the question aside for later, and ducked into the hallway. Ashlynn had not paused to wait for him, but was running frantically forward, trying to reach her brother.
Someone had beaten them there, though.
Argent was facing off Priest Graff, or as he should be known, the fake priest that was actually an assassin. Broden had a split second of chagrin for not realizing the man’s true nature. They had blindly trusted Graff because of his clerical robes. Why had they done that? Desperation? It seemed a poor excuse now.
The hallways were narrow and confined, but, in spite of that, Gwydion Argent was putting up a whale of a fight. He had not followed orders either because he had a long dagger in one hand and a candlestick in the other. There was sweat pouring down his temples and a berserker grin on his face. He must have either heard their approach or caught it out of the corner of his eye as he shouted, “He’s in the room! Injured! GO!”
Ashlynn went, slipping past the fighting fake-priest and Argent. Broden stopped in the doorway, guarding her and Edvard from anything that might make it through, and watched Argent fight like a veteran soldier. Had not someone said that he was the grandson of a famous knight? Fighting prowess must run in the family.
There was a horrified gasp before Ashlynn said shakily, “Edvard.”
“I’ll survive,” Edvard responded, but his voice sounded wan. “A healing spell or three would be quite welcome.”
“Hush, I have to clean this out first.”
Broden did not dare take his eyes off the fight in front of him but he did call back, “How bad be it?”
“They got me right in the shoulder before I realized what was happening,” Edvard explained and then hissed. “Ashlynn, that stings something awful.”
“Be still,” she responded, not in the least bit sympathetic. “At this angle, they nearly got your neck.”
Argent let out a roar before springing forward, candlestick being treated like a shield to knock his opponent’s short sword away, and then his dagger darted forward with pinpoint accuracy. The assassin-priest went down with a near silent gasp, crumpling to the floor like discarded clothes. Argent breathed in deep, then looked around at Broden, a fierce smile on his face. “The man was skilled.”
“He be that,” Broden agreed in grudging admiration. He was not a master at swordplay, so he could not offer any criticisms, but he knew two skilled fighters when he saw them in action. A part of him was rather glad that it was Argent that had faced Graff as he was not sure the two daggers in his hands would have been enough to defeat the assassin.
From the front of the temple there was a clamor of sound and a great deal of yelling. Broden’s eyes darted in that direction even though stone blocked his view.
“I’ll go,” Argent stated, already sprinting that direction.
Broden watched his back retreat and thought, The man be growing on me.
Edvard gasped. “Ashlynn, dearest, not so tightly please.”
“I have to stop the bleeding. Spells can only do so much in this situation.” She lifted the necklace at her neck and said urgently, “Master. Master, answer me. Master!”
“I heard you the first two times, no need to yell. What?”
“Assassins are in the temple. We’re under attack. Where are you?”
Gerrard swore loud and long. “The two boats we were going to use this morning sprang leaks, so we had to stop and fix them. That delayed me, and I’m just now reaching Estole’s docks. I’ll be there as quickly as I can. Can you fend them off?”
“Most of us aren’t armed. Argent was, he protected Edvard, but it’s basically me and Ash. Oh, and Riana and Broden snuck in a few daggers somehow, so our partners are armed at least.”
“Sit tight. I’m bringing more of the guard with me.”
Ashlynn dropped the necklace and looked up at Broden. For the first time since the day he had met her, he saw true fear in her face. “How many men are we fighting against in here?”
“Do no’ know,” he admitted sourly. He was torn, truly torn, in which direction to go. Stay here, protect her and the king? Go back to the main room, help fight off the others? “They must have locked the doors, though. Our guard outside can no’ get in.”
It was Edvard that decided the matter. “Ashlynn, put up one of your wards around this room and leave me here. You and Broden are two of the few that can fight. You have to get back out there, not babysit me.”
She did not like it but saw the wisdom in it. Pushing Broden out of the doorway, she put up a ward so quickly that the words seemed to meld into each other as she spoke them. Broden had heard her do this spell often enough that he knew the words and was moving before the last syllable left her lips.
They regained the main room and paused in the doorway long enough to get a grasp of what was going on. Broden’s heart sank as he realized that they weren’t dealing with normal assassins—there were two wizard-assassins, both of them fighting with Ash. Ash had somehow managed to get the noncombatants up between two of the altars and put a ward up so that they could not be harmed. It left him, Riana, and Argent out and fighting.
Riana whizzed a small dagger at one wizard-assassin, forcing the man to duck, which let Ash get a quick spell off, grazing the man’s head. It forced a retreat and gave him the breathing room he needed to deal with the other’s attack.
Ashlynn’s magic flared out like a bonfire cloaking her, and she stalked forward, heading for the wizard that had retreated. Broden was at her side, palming both daggers and wishing he had brought his bow.
Like a raging goddess of war, Ashlynn descended on the man with spells flinging fast and furious, forcing him to put up shield after shield or get fried. Broden danced around to the man’s blind side and flung a dagger, but at the last second, he erected a shield that bounced the weapon away. Broden’s mouth dropped open in surprise. He could do that?! As Ashlynn had explained it, putting up a weapon’s shield and a magical shield at the same time was impossible. So the assassin would have had to drop his magical shield, raise a weapon’s shield long enough to block the attack, and then raise another magical shield to deal with Ashlynn all within split seconds.
Well. The man was not a professional assassin for nothing.
But that meant that even if Broden timed this carefully he might not be able to pierce through, and he only had one dagger left. If the man came after him, he would be hard pressed to fight back. Bare-handed wrestling did not seem the best choice with this particular opponent.
Riana noticed his situation and called, “Da! Catch!”
He turned with one hand reaching out, only half-surprised by the dagger she tossed him. This one had a bit more size to it than the other one, which he was grateful to see. Spinning back around, he stepped into Ashlynn’s shield, letting it
protect him from the magical attack the assassin had unleashed.
Ashlynn was panting for breath, but the fire had not gone out in her eyes, so she was not anywhere near to being done yet. She reached behind her, found Broden’s ribs, and gave two hard taps before stepping forward and unleashing a wind storm that threatened to bring the rafters down on their heads.
He knew the signal. It was one they had developed in the city, when they wanted to get the drop on a criminal. She would unleash two attacks and then back off. It was his job to take advantage of the opening she gave him and dart forward. He lifted up onto the balls of his feet and prepared himself to launch forward.
Immediately after the wind storm was a burst of magical power that felt like it sucked all of the air right out of the room. The wizard gasped on his breath, unable to quite form the words he needed, and that was when Broden moved. He darted ahead with no fear, no caution, slamming into the other man with both daggers burying themselves into his chest.
The assassin was dead before he hit the ground, eyes rolled into his head, not even a gasp of pain to signal his death.
Broden stepped back, breathing hard, and looked behind him. “Ashlynn?”
“Good,” she assured him, also breathing hard, bracing her hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.
Turning, he looked at the rest of the room. Riana and Ash had dealt with their assassin at practically the same time, apparently. Ash was bending over a wounded Argent, who was nursing a bleeding leg and biting his lower lip to keep from crying out at the pain. Riana noticed his gaze and smirked at him. “Stupid of them, to assume we would all obey.”
“Apparently,” Broden drawled and inwardly busted with pride that she was his little girl. There were days it was hard to contain it.
Gerrard burst through the main doors in that moment with at least a dozen guards hot on his heels. He took in the scene with wide eyes and demanded, “Is everyone alright?”
Arrows of Promise (Kingmakers Book 2) Page 29